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The Wild Knight and Other Poems
The Wild Knight and Other Poems
The Wild Knight and Other Poems
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The Wild Knight and Other Poems

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"The Wild Knight and Other Poems" by G. K. Chesterton. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherGood Press
Release dateDec 4, 2019
ISBN4057664586964
Author

G. K. Chesterton

G.K. Chesterton (1874–1936) was an English writer, philosopher and critic known for his creative wordplay. Born in London, Chesterton attended St. Paul’s School before enrolling in the Slade School of Fine Art at University College. His professional writing career began as a freelance critic where he focused on art and literature. He then ventured into fiction with his novels The Napoleon of Notting Hill and The Man Who Was Thursday as well as a series of stories featuring Father Brown.

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    Book preview

    The Wild Knight and Other Poems - G. K. Chesterton

    G. K. Chesterton

    The Wild Knight and Other Poems

    Published by Good Press, 2019

    goodpress@okpublishing.info

    EAN 4057664586964

    Table of Contents

    BY THE BABE UNBORN

    THE WORLD'S LOVER

    THE SKELETON

    A CHORD OF COLOUR

    THE HAPPY MAN

    THE UNPARDONABLE SIN

    A NOVELTY

    ULTIMATE

    THE DONKEY

    THE BEATIFIC VISION

    THE HOPE OF THE STREETS

    ECCLESIASTES

    THE SONG OF THE CHILDREN

    THE FISH

    GOLD LEAVES

    THOU SHALT NOT KILL

    A CERTAIN EVENING

    A MAN AND HIS IMAGE

    THE MARINER

    THE TRIUMPH OF MAN

    CYCLOPEAN

    JOSEPH

    MODERN ELFLAND

    ETERNITIES

    A CHRISTMAS CAROL

    ALONE

    KING'S CROSS STATION

    THE HUMAN TREE

    TO THEM THAT MOURN

    THE OUTLAW

    BEHIND

    THE END OF FEAR

    THE HOLY OF HOLIES

    THE MIRROR OF MADMEN

    E.C.B.

    THE DESECRATERS

    AN ALLIANCE

    THE ANCIENT OF DAYS

    THE LAST MASQUERADE

    THE EARTH'S SHAME

    VANITY

    THE LAMP POST

    THE PESSIMIST

    A FAIRY TALE

    A PORTRAIT

    FEMINA CONTRA MUNDUM

    TO A CERTAIN NATION

    THE PRAISE OF DUST

    THE BALLAD OF THE BATTLE OF GIBEON

    THE BALLAD OF GOD-MAKERS

    AT NIGHT

    THE WOOD-CUTTER

    ART COLOURS

    THE TWO WOMEN

    THE WILD KNIGHT

    THE WILD KNIGHT

    GOOD NEWS


    Another tattered rhymster in the ring,

    With but the old plea to the sneering schools,

    That on him too, some secret night in spring

    Came the old frenzy of a hundred fools

    To make some thing: the old want dark and deep,

    The thirst of men, the hunger of the stars,

    Since first it tinged even the Eternal's sleep,

    With monstrous dreams of trees and towns and mars.

    When all He made for the first time He saw,

    Scattering stars as misers shake their pelf.

    Then in the last strange wrath broke His own law,

    And made a graven image of Himself.


    BY THE BABE UNBORN

    Table of Contents

    If trees were tall and grasses short,

    As in some crazy tale,

    If here and there a sea were blue

    Beyond the breaking pale,

    If a fixed fire hung in the air

    To warm me one day through,

    If deep green hair grew on great hills,

    I know what I should do.

    In dark I lie: dreaming that there

    Are great eyes cold or kind,

    And twisted streets and silent doors,

    And living men behind.

    Let storm-clouds come: better an hour,

    And leave to weep and fight,

    Than all the ages I have ruled

    The empires of the night.

    I think that if they gave me leave

    Within that world to stand,

    I would be good through all the day

    I spent in fairyland.

    They should not hear a word from me

    Of selfishness or scorn,

    If only I could find the door,

    If only I were born.


    THE WORLD'S LOVER

    Table of Contents

    My eyes are full of lonely mirth:

    Reeling with want and worn with scars,

    For pride of every stone on earth,

    I shake my spear at all the stars.

    A live bat beats my crest above,

    Lean foxes nose where I have trod,

    And on my naked face the love

    Which is the loneliness of God.

    Outlawed: since that great day gone by—

    When before prince and pope and queen

    I stood and spoke a blasphemy—

    'Behold the summer leaves are green.'

    They cursed me: what was that to me

    Who in that summer darkness furled,

    With but an owl and snail to see,

    Had blessed and conquered all the world?

    They bound me to the scourging-stake,

    They laid their whips of thorn on me;

    I wept to see the green rods break,

    Though blood be beautiful to see.

    Beneath the gallows' foot abhorred

    The crowds

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